Where They Left Off
by Synbou
Summary: JP Set after 30 Days. Will Tom and Kathryn be able to take back their relationship where they left off as Tom comes out of the brig?
1. The First Cup of Coffee

Series: Voyager

Pairing: J/P

Parts: 1/7

Rating: G

_**A/N: I have been digging old stories lately. I'm hoping that they will help me find myself again and, most of all, invite me to write new stories. I corrected a few mistakes and decided to share this one with you. Thank you for reading. **_

**Synopsis:** Set after 30 Days. Will Tom and Kathryn be able to take back their relationship where they left off as Tom comes out of the brig?

**Where They Left Off**

1. The First Cup of Coffee.

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"Wake up, Mr. Paris," came Tuvok's _charming_ voice from across the force field. "Your thirty days are over. You just have the time to shave and get into uniform before your meeting with the Captain."

"I see that she accepted my invitation," Tom said as he swung his feet off the bunk. "Did she say where we are supposed to meet?"

"She did not," the Vulcan replied. "I would stipulate that she meant her ready-room, Ensign."

He cringed at the blunt reminder of his recent demotion. He better had to get used to it now. This was just the beginning. Since when did he care so much about rank anyway? As much as he would of have liked to kid himself, he _knew_ that his rank had mattered to him since the beginning of their voyage in the Delta Quadrant.

"Tuvok, Tuvok, Tuvok," he repeated, putting his thoughts aside. "Never make assumptions," he said as he crossed the threshold of the cell that had been his _home_ for the last month. "It's good to see you too, by the way."

Tuvok replied by raising his eyebrows – so predictable. Tom grinned. He had missed the stoic Vulcan. He had missed all his friends. Confinement was bad, solitary confinement was cruel. The Captain had made of good job of letting everybody know that going against her orders would be met with negative reinforcement. Considering his past however, it was obviously that this particular psychological approach had never been very efficient in curing these maladaptive behaviours of his.

Tom cursed himself for the umpteenth time, wondering what was wrong with him. Again, he had acted before considering all the repercussions of his actions on the people that he cared about – disappointing the ones that trusted him and that had faith in him. Disappointing Kathryn ...

He had probably already lost more than he could imagine. It hurt. He wondered if this latest punishment would succeed in teaching him _the_ lesson he needed to learn to stay out of trouble. Somehow he doubted it since everything else had failed before. He could be a stubborn man – a flaw he had no problem blaming on his father. However, when it came down to what he was ready to do or not do for Kathryn Janeway, it was something else entirely. He could remember a time when everything that she did, everything that she said was an inspiration to him. It still was. He knew he would be fooling himself thinking otherwise.

Tom went to his quarters, shaved, and changed. He looked at himself in the mirror and brought a hand to his collar. He was Ensign Tom Paris, again. The good years of being a Lieutenant were over. He might as well make the best of it. He knew better than anyone that a rank was not something written in stone, upward or downward. He had been an ensign before, he could manage, but could those around him do as well? He would find that out soon enough, he thought. All things considered, it could have been a lot worst.

He left his quarters knowing full well that what was about to happen could change one of the most important part of his life forever. He stopped in front of the door and rang the chime. On her invitation – at the sound of her voice – his heart skipped a beat. Tom walked into Kathryn Janeway's quarters.

"Good morning," he greeted neutrally, hoping that his nervousness would not show too much. As he had walked in, he had thought that the worst had probably already happened. Now, he was not so sure.

"Good morning to you, too" she acknowledged barely looking at him before rising up from her coach and making her way to the replicator. She ordered two cups of coffee. She then walked up to him and gave him a cup. They stood in silence for a moment. This first encounter in month felt rather awkward. "Do you really think that we can start back where we left off?" she finally asked him. There was a hint of defiance in her voice. She held his gaze as she brought her cup to her lips.

Tom found himself at lost for words. Suddenly, all that he had carefully rehearsed back in the brig had vanished. His mind was a total blank. He looked away for a brief moment and bit his lower lip. It was not the time to let his big mouth get away from what he really wanted to say. That said, what did he really wanted tell her? Even if he wanted to, could he make it work? Could they make work?

How could he ever expect her to trust him again, when he could barely trust himself. He took a deep breath and looked back at her, hoping that his expression would reflect the sincerity of his words.

"It's up to you, Kathryn," he answered her in a low voice. "I'm fine with what happened. I respect your decisions." Her lips were shut in a tight fine line, and he knew she was angry. "I did something that I knew wouldn't be without consequences. But Kathryn, I had to try. It was very selfish of me, I shamefully did not think about all of you, about the position I would put _you_ in. I figured that if I had to die for something that I believed in ... for once ... that I ..."

Again, he fled her intense gaze. What was he trying to say exactly? His fingers held the coffee cup tighter. He felt a lump in his throat. Then, her hand reached for his cheek and brushed way the tear that he had never felt coming. He lost himself in the tenderness of her touch.

"I love you, Kathryn," he whispered. "I managed to hurt you nonetheless. I'm sorry ... If you want us to put a end to our relationship, I'll accept that."

"I was somewhat hoping that you would put on more of a fight to keep me," she said a bit teasingly, taking him by surprise.

Their eyes met. She had a sad smile on her beautiful face.

"Well ... I'm just beginning," he defended tentatively, a small grin forming on his lips.

"Tom, I know that you had to try. You would never have been at peace with yourself –with whatever drives you to do these things. Like I told you a month ago, I respect that. I wish I could have helped you. I wish I hadn't had to do what I did. But ..." She sought his blue eyes. "Don't ever put me in that position, again."

He wanted to make that promise to her, but the words got caught in his throat. He sighed. "I can't promise you that. I can try. I can't promise," he replied .distraught.

Kathryn surprised him again with a grin. "I don't think that you can promise, either. I'll have to live with you trying very hard, then," she added mischievously.

"So ... where does that leave us?"

She took his untouched cup of coffee away and put it beside hers on the table. Then, she lovingly put her harms around his neck.

"Where does it leave us?" she repeated. "It leaves us where we left off. That is, if you remember how to kiss me."

He smiled, looking down into her sparkling grey eyes. "Now, that shouldn't be a problem."

"I love you too, Tom," she said as their lips met.

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_**A/N: **__**END of part one. There'll be more. What can I say? My 30 days aren't over ... Feedback always appreciated at **_

_**Isabelle S.**_

December 1999


	2. Broken Nights

Series: Voyager

Pairing: J/P

Parts: 2/7

Rating: G

**A/N: This one is for you Elisabeth, a tribute to the Paris Nights. ****I had some problems with my English grammar on this one. I apologize for the mistake. **

**Synopsis:** Set after 30 Days. Kathryn wakes up in the middle of the night and reflects on her relationship with Tom.

Where They Left Off

2) Broken Nights

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Kathryn rolled over in her sleep and suddenly woke up to the coldness of the sheets. She was alone in the queen size bed once more. There was no sign of Tom around. She felt bitter disappointment. Tom had left as quietly as a cat, again. Her disappointment quickly subsided, leaving her restless and mostly sad.

Kathryn turned on her back and asked for the time. It was 0311 hours. She mechanically stared at the dark ceiling. The bedroom was faintly illuminated by a dim light coming from the living area. Tom had the habit of leaving it on in order to make out his way as he was getting out of bed for one of his midnight strolls. Kathryn did not mind the light. She had gotten used to it, as she had gotten used to Tom leaving in the middle of the nigh – she obviously did not even wake up when he did anymore. However, she would never get used to waking up alone after a heated passionate evening of making love.

Kathryn could still remember how angry at him she had been when she had woken up alone the first time over a year ago. It had been the morning of their third night together. She had felt incredibly betrayed. She had felt like another casual conquest.

_How could he have treated me__ like that knowing the amount of courage it had taken me to finally admit my feelings to him?_ she had wondered.

That day, she had given him the cold shoulder. Hurt by her attitude, Tom had confronted Kathryn in her ready room at the end of his shift. It had been a shock for her to learn that he never slept more than four, sometimes five, hours each night. Kathryn could hardly imagine that Tom had lain awake by her side during the two first nights they had spent together, holding her in his arms in contentment as she had peacefully slept. Although, on the third night, Tom had been so uncomfortable and restless that he had gotten up to avoid waking her up.

_Of all people_, he had insisted. _Captains need their sleep_.

Despite all the difficulties Voyager had encountered, Tom's sleep had taken a more natural rhythm over the months that had followed. He had even surprised himself by sleeping over six hours on a few occasions. He had been faithful to the promise he had made to her to come back in the morning if he had the need to leave during the night and to wake her up if had been called on duty.

Since Tom had walked out of the brig, his insomnia had come back in full force. He had left Kathryn's side almost every night, rarely coming back.

She sighed heavily.

Sadly, just like the facts that he was distant and that he had lost weight, it was a reminder that both their relationship and their lives were still suffering from Tom's stay in the brig more than two months earlier. Kathryn was worried about Tom. He claimed that he was fine and that he had fully accepted what had happened following the Morean incident, but Kathryn was not convinced. True, he seemed genuinely happy –smiling, laughing, and joking – most of the time. However, there were times during the day when Tom looked strikingly sad, tired, and overwhelmed by a sense of doom. It was hitting him so hard that he was unable to hide it properly to the point of not even try to. It never lasted very long, but the fact that his friends had all commented about it led Kathryn to wonder how many times it could happen during a day.

_How bad__ could it be when Tom was alone?_

Kathryn felt a lump in her throat at the thought. She sprang out of the bed and called for Tom's location.

"Ensign Paris is in the Mess Hall," the computer answered her.

_En__sign_ ... Kathryn hated that even more than Tom did. She hoped that one day, sooner than later, that she would be able to give him back his rank of lieutenant, or even higher.

"Is he alone?" she asked again.

"Affirmative."

"Well, he won't be for long," she said out loud.

Kathryn quickly got dressed and left her quarters. She found Tom in the Mess Hall, as the computer had informed her. Frankly, that was as much as she had expected. She had feared that she might find Tom sad and depressed, as she had seen him before, but never like that...

Tom was seated beside a window. His head was leaning on one side and his gaze was lost in the darkness. Despite the fact that he had a clear view of the entrance of the Mess Hall, he did not look in her direction as she came in. He was so deep in thought that he had obviously not heard the door open.

Kathryn felt like crying as she looked at him. What could he be thinking that his handsome features could reflect so much despair? She desperately wanted to run to him, to take him in her arms, and to comfort him, but she could not move. She could only stare at him helplessly as tears formed in her eyes.

She remembered thinking of Tom as a puzzle during their early days in the Delta Quadrant. A broken puzzle, which had taken all of them four long years to put back together, to sadly realize that the scars would always show and that some of the pieces were lost forever.

That night, in the Mess Hall, the puzzle was dissembled once again. Its pieces were like broken glass, each reflecting a distorted image of the man that she loved. Tom's scares were slowly bleeding as the wounds were reopening.

_God, what have I__ done? _

After the Monean incident, Kathryn had struck back, hurting Tom as much as he had hurt her. At least, that was what she had wanted in the heat of the moment. Just like Tom, she had not considered all the implications of her decisions. She was now realizing that the results of her anger could be just as deadly as Tom's actions on that Water Planet.

_You__ rearranged the pieces of the puzzle, Kathryn. That's what you did –just like you did when he came on board,_ the little voice in her mind sobbed.

"Do you plan on joining me or will you just stand there?" Tom asked her. His voice was soft and teasing.

Kathryn blinked. There was a smile on his face. No traces of sadness whatsoever. He looked so peaceful that she wondered if she had dreamed the entire scene. Had it not been for the dark shadows under his eyes, she might have believed it. God knew she wanted too.

"What are you doing here so late?" he asked again. "Shouldn't the Captain be sleeping?"

"What about the Chief Pilot?" Kathryn replied with a smile that was matching his own.

"He can manage," Tom answered her.

She walked up to him. At his invitation, she sat on his laps and put her arms around his neck. They kissed tenderly.

"I woke up alone and cold," she explained. "I missed you."

"I'm glad you came," he said, holding her tighter.

"Tom..."

"It's late," he interrupted her. "You should go back to bed, Love."

"Not without you, Sailor," Kathryn objected.

Tom remained silent. After a few minutes of enjoying the mutual closeness, Kathryn sought his eyes.

"Tom, something's wrong," she stated. "Your barge is adrift, Sailor, and the currents are slowly pulling you towards dangerous reefs." He tried to object, but she put a finger on his lips. "Tom, you're hurting. I can see that. You look as if you had lost your best friends. You don't sleep, you barely eat. You can't go on like that, Sailor. You have to talk to me. I know that I hurt you terribly. You have to tell me just how much. I need to know. Otherwise..."

"Kathryn," he whispered, caressing her cheek. "I did not lie to you when I said that I was fine with your decisions. Kath, I love you no less. Maybe I do even more."

"I love you too, Tom. I don't want to lose you and I don't like to see you hurting."

"I- I just can't sleep," he finally admitted. "I do, but just for a little while. There's nothing new there. You know that."

"Did you have any sleep tonight?" Kathryn asked.

"I must have had some. I had one of those weird dreams again," Tom said.

"Weird dreams," she echoed. "From what you told me, they sounded more like nightmares."

"It's like I'm dreaming awake. That's the scary part," he explained. "There's nothing to be worried about."

"But, I _am_ worried, Sailor. You should go see the Doctor."

The way his body responded, she knew that she had struck a nerve. It was one of those issues that were split in half by a very thin line between what she wanted as his lover and what she needed as his Captain.

"Is that an order?" he asked neutrally.

Kathryn sighed; disappointed that he made it an issue.

"I'm sorry," Tom apologized. "I'll think about it."

She could live with that, for now. She knew that letting Tom get used to the idea was the best tactic in order to have him agreeing to something like going to see the doctor. Professionally, she could not do anything yet. She only hoped that it would never come to that.

"You could also talk to Chakotay. He knows a lot about dreams," she said as a matter of fact.

"Don't push it, Kathryn," he warned her.

"I just want you to think about it, Sailor," she told him before sealing the conversation with a kiss.

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End of part 2.

Thanks for reading this little piece. There will be more.

Isabelle S.

January 2000


	3. Scattered Dreams

Series: Voyager

Pairing: J/P

Parts: 3/7

Rating: G

**Synopsis:** Tom has been plagued by weird dreams and telltale signs of depression since his stay in the brig. Kathryn's concerns grow as they start interfering with his daily life.

**Where They Left Off**

**3) Scattered Dreams **

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He took the medical tricorder and passed it over her.

_That's weird_, he thought as the instrument did not register anything right away. He shook it and pushed a few buttons, any button. Despite his effort, the thing was still not working. He was about to put it aside and choose another one when it finally came to life.

He passed the scanning device over her again. His eyes widened in surprise. He looked down at her. She was sitting on the edge of the biobed. She was swinging her legs back and forth, like Naomi would do. As he examined them carefully, he realized that they were shorter than he remembered.

"Is there a problem?" she asked him with a twisted expression.

"I'm not sure, B'Elanna," he replied. Glancing back at the tricorder's readings, he added: "Your EPS manifolds are overheating."

"Any reason why?" demanded the engineer with a frown.

"There could be a misalignment of the navigational array," he theorized.

"You broke it, _again?_" Her question was more of an angry statement. "Well, answer me, Tom."

He did not know what to say to her. The readings of his tricorder were barely making sense.

"Well answer her, Tom," he unexpectedly heard the Captain's voice coming from beside him. "What's taking you so long, Sailor? If you don't hurry up, we'll be late."

B'Elanna suddenly jumped off the biobed, pushing him backward as she did. Tom felt himself lose his balance. In his overwhelming confusing, he saw the tricorder drop to floor.

"Tom!" both women called.

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"What's taking you so long, Sailor?" Kathryn asked form the bedroom. "If you don't hurry up, we'll be late."

Tom's silence worried her, so she walked back into the living area. He was still sitting on the couch. His eyes were close. He had dropped the book that he had been reading.

Kathryn realized that Tom had fallen back to sleep. It did not surprise her. He had been so tired the last few weeks. His insomnia was still a concern despite the sleeping-aids the Doctor had prescribed. Tom was waking up in the middle of the night, but he didn't have the energy to go to the holodeck, the Mess Hall, or the gym as he used to do. Instead, he was staying in and was passing his time reading, listening to some music, or playing games with the computer. Then, he went back to bed for the remaining two or three hours of the night.

The sleeping-aids were indeed helping Tom sleep, however they were not working without side-effects. It had become difficult to get him going in the morning. Tom would feel groggy and overly depressed for a while. Kathryn was afraid that they would have to put him on anti-depressant medication sooner or later.

The fact that he was falling asleep everywhere was also becoming a problem. Fortunately, his symptoms were alleviating themselves during the day. Still, it had forced Chakotay and herself to reconsider Tom's duty schedule so that he would be working in Sickbay during the morning – under the discrete supervision of The Doctor – and on the Bridge during the afternoon. It had been a frequent arrangement over the last three years – since Tom had became the EMH's assistant – but being kept away from the helm more than usual did nothing to improve Tom's mood.

Kathryn walked to the couch. Leaning over her lover, she touched his shoulder as she called his name. He woke up with a start. His blue eyes met hers with confusion. It took him a moment to get his bearing.

"Hey there, Sailor. You fell back to sleep," she explained to him with a soft smile. "Are you all right?"

"Huh? I was dreaming," he replied with muffled voice. It was as if he had cotton in his mouth.

"Another one of your _waking-dreams_?" she asked already knowing the answer. She had talked with him less than ten minutes before. Therefore, it was impossible that he had fallen asleep and enter in REM sleep so fast. She sat next to him. "What did you dream about?"

He chuckled. Resting his head on her shoulder, he narrated his dream.

"You told B'Elanna that _her_ EPS manafolds were overheating?" she laughed. "Sailor, don't ever do that in real life."

"There wouldn't be much left of me, would there?" he agreed. "There was something wrong with her legs, too. They were shorter, about the length of Naomi's."

"Didn't Naomi come into sickbay, yesterday?" Kathryn asked.

"Yeah, and so did B'Elanna," Tom recalled. "Then, I went to see her in engineering to discuss a problem with the helm."

"Sounds like you dreamed about yesterday's events," Kathryn observed. "Isn't that a characteristic of REM sleep?"

"It is," he simply confirmed.

"Did you talk about your dreams with The Doctor?" she inquired.

"Never occurred to me," Tom replied.

She sighed. "Did he mention anything about REM sleep disorders to you?"

"I don't know if he even tested me for that," Tom told her on a tone that let her wonder if he cared at all. "I'll have to bring it up to him," he said a after a short pause.

"Yes, you'll have to do that. _Today_", she emphasized. "But now, we have to go get some breakfast. So, hurry up, Sailor. We're already running late."

"Can we just stay in?" he asked with a sad-puppy expression. "You never take much more than a coffee anyway."

"Maybe so," she granted. "But, I enjoy having breakfast with you. And, going out is going to do you some good. You've been in here too much."

It had been Chakotay's recommendation that they all push Tom into his normal daily activities to help him get started in the morning. Kathryn was determined to do just that, even if it meant to have breakfast in the Mess Hall.

She stood up and helped him get on his feet.

"You're a cruel woman, Kathryn Janeway," he teased her.

"That's why you love me," she told him with a matching grin.

As Tom made his way to the bathroom to freshen-up, Kathryn heard him sing the lyrics of French song that they had adopted as their own.

Moi, je n'étais rien, mais voila qu'aujourd'hui,

(Me, I was nothing, but here today)

Je suis le gardien du sommeil de ses nuits,

(I am the guardian of the sleep of her nights)

Je l'aime à mourir.

(I love to death ...)

Tom's soft baritone voice had a way of sweeping her off her feet. She wished he would sing more often. She could imagine him so well, signing on the stage of a small cabaret. It would not have taken much to modify Sandrine's accordingly, but Tom had never consented to sing in public. He deemed that he was doing enough entertainment as it was. He had a point to a certain extend, she had agree with a grin.

Elle a dû faire toutes les guerres,

(She must have done all the wars)

Pour être si forte aujourd'hui,

(To be so strong today)

Elle a dû faire toutes les guerres,

(She must have done all the wars)

De la vie, et l'amour aussi ...

(Of life, and love too ...)

Kathryn had not waged all the wars or made all the love of the universe to gain the strength she needed to go on. She would never have too either since the man of her life was right here, singing in her bathroom. Kathryn had never felt so lucky and loved before in her life. And, if it was asked of her to go to war to help Tom battle with his depression, she would do whatever it took to hold on to him.

"What ya thinkin'? Tom asked as he lovingly put his arms around her shoulders.

She turned around to face him. "That... Je t'aime à mourir," she whispered, before kissing him tenderly.

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"I know you're excited about this, but you know the rules, Naomi," Kathryn and Tom heard Samantha Wildman remind her daughter in a corridor ahead of them. "Don't run."

The two senior officers smiled. They knew Naomi to be calm, even tempered, and very mature for her age, but she was still a child who could easily get excited and enthusiastic about new projects.

As they turned around the corner, Naomi collided at full speed with Tom. He momentarily tried to catch her before she fell to the floor, but he did not reach her in time. His leg gave out from under him and he felt himself sink onto the deck like a bag of potatoes.

"_Tom!_" Kathryn called. "Are you all right?"

He did not answer her.

While Samantha helped her daughter back to her feet, Kathryn knelt beside the fallen man. His eyes were closed and they were moving very rapidity.

"He's in REM sleep," she realized, looking up at Wildman for some sort of confirmation.

"I'm sorry, Captain," the child said shakily. "Is Tom going to be all right?" she asked, afraid that she had hurt him baldly.

"I think so, Naomi," Kathryn replied reassuringly. She turned back her attention to Paris. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she asked: "Tom, can you hear me?"

"Kath," he said sleepily. "I just had the weirdest dream ..."

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End of part 3

_**Je L'Aime a Mourir belongs to French-singer Francis Cabrel **_

**Thanks for reading this little piece. **

**Isabelle S. **

**January 2000**


	4. Deprivation

Series: Voyager

Pairing: J/P

Parts: 4/7

Rating: G

_**Synopsis**_ Means are taken in order to help Tom get better.

**Where They Left Off.**

**4) Deprivation**

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"Kath," he said sleepily. "I just had the weirdest dream ..."

Kathryn smiled out of relief. She helped him to sit up. "Are you all right? Are you in any pain?"

"No. I'm fine," he answered rubbing his eyes. "I was dreaming, but I was awake. I could see you. There were bright colors and the water was dripping... again... It was creepy. What happened to me?" he asked finally looking up at her.

"I have a little idea about that," Kathryn replied.

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The EMH closed his tricorder. "Well Captain, it seems that your diagnosis is accurate. Mr. Paris is indeed suffering from a REM sleep disorder – narcolepsy to be more precise."

"Hey!" Tom protested. "Mr. Paris is still in the room."

Kathryn reached for his hand and squeezed it as an apology.

"Narcolepsy? Doc, it doesn't tell me much about what's wrong with me. Why do I fell asleep everywhere? What happened to me in that corridor?"

"Well to answer your first question, Mr. Paris, the primary symptoms of narcolepsy are sleep attacks. They are overwhelming urges to sleep that can happen at any time but occurs most often under monotonous and boring conditions."

"Like working in sickbay," Tom pointed out as matter of fact.

The Doctor gave him a sideways look, but refrained from making any comment. "I believe that what you experienced in the corridor was an onset of cataplexy," he continued instead. "One characteristics of REM sleep – in this case, muscle paralysis – occurred at an inappropriate time. However, you described having a dream. Usually, people lie there fully conscious."

"I _was_ conscious, and yet I wasn't," Tom said with a hint of frustration in his voice. "It was like I was hallucinating and I couldn't move. It wasn't the first time that it happened. Each time, it's very creepy."

"Your _waking dreams_," Kathryn stated in a soft voice.

Tom nodded to her.

"The phenomenon is called hypnagogic hallucination," the EMH told them. "You dreamed at the wrong time."

"I seem to do a lot of things at the wrong time," Tom said on a self-deprecating tone.

"Does Narcolepsy affect the mood?" the Captain asked.

"The lack of proper sleep is a symptom of a depressive state. Paradoxically, total sleep deprivation and REM sleep deprivation have been shown to relieve depression. The former does it more quickly, although the latter provide more lasting results."

"What can you do for Tom's narcolepsy?" Kathryn questioned again.

"I can start a drug treatment right away. It would take care of the symptoms and provide Mr. Paris with a more normal sleep pattern. I could also prescribe some anti-depressant for the depression."

"I said _no_ to that before," Tom reminded them. It was obvious that he did not quite like the fact that Kathryn and the Doctor were discussing _his case_ in front of him as if he was unable to make the decisions regarding his health on his own. "I don't want to be put on any anti-depressants."

"Tom, it would make you feel better," Kathryn pointed out softly.

"It takes forever to kick in and it didn't worked well for me the last time I was on it," he argued.

Kathryn knew that even if they were to agree on anti-depressants that Tom would not comply with the prescription. They had to come up with something else. "What about the REM sleep deprivation that you mentioned before?" she asked the physician. "Could it have a positive affect on both Tom's depression and his narcolepsy?"

"It could be an alternative," he conceded. "Assuming that the treatment would be effective for the depression, when Mr. Paris would be allowed to sleep normally once again, his sleep would be mainly composed of REM sleep. Hopefully, he could subsequently fall back into a regular sleep pattern. If not, we could continue with the drug treatment."

"Well, with a little luck, Mr. Paris won't have to," Tom said.

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Tom was cuddled in Kathryn's arms. They had read Irish poetry, laying on the couch, until he had fallen asleep, more than half an hour earlier. She had not moved away form him the entire time.

She had kept on holding him in her embrace with contentment, as it had been Tom's habit to do ever since they had been together. He slightly shifted in his sleep and she recovered him with the quilt. She would have to wake him up soon, before he could enter into REM sleep. It was tearing her apart even if she knew it was for the best.

A few days before, Kathryn had thought herself ready to go to war against Tom's depression. However, she had not anticipated that she would have to wage two battles at the same time. They would have to take this one step at the time, she reminded herself.

As usual, Tom did not like to talk about his problems. He kept on saying that they were no big deal. He was turning them into jokes. That said, Kathryn could tell just how overwhelmed he was about the situation. The more he joked, the more stressed he felt. It was a simple equation that she had understood early on. She had rarely minded the jokes, especially in time of crisis.

They had a special relaxing effect on her. It was one of those things she liked about her Sailor.

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A week later, Kathryn walked into her quarters to the sound of Tom's laughter. It was music to her ears and she felt a beaming smile creep to her lips. Tom was sitting on the sofa, facing

Chakotay – sited on a chair. The two had met regularly over the last week for some informal counselling. It had been Chakotay's initiative to seek out Tom and offer his services as a friend. It had been important for the Commander that Tom understood that he was considering him and Kathryn as precious friends and that he wanted nothing less than to see both of them happy and well. Tom had been deeply touched by the support that his former nemesis was giving him. God knew that for some eluding reason, he desperately needed it these days.

For Kathryn, the crew's acceptance of her relationship with Tom had been an important blessing. But Tuvok's and, even more, Chakotay's approval had been crucial. She had never dismissed the fact that if it had not been for her first officer and friend's support, she would never have engaged herself romantically with a member of her crew. Sadly, Tom most of all.

"Gentlemen," she greeted. "The two of you surely seem to be having a great time. Mind if I join the party?"

"Would we ever?" Tom replied with a mischievous smile.

She sat by his side and they exchanged a kiss.

"So, what did I miss?" she asked.

"Believe me Kathryn, you haven't miss anything yet," Chakotay assured her as he rose from his seat.

"You're not leaving already, are you?" Kathryn ask a bit surprised. "I though you would have dinner with us."

"Thank you, but not tonight. You have other plans in which I don't fit in," he told her with a smile.

"We do?" Kathryn asked, giving Tom a questioning look.

"We do," Tom confirmed. "That is assuming I don't fall asleep before we even get started."

"Don't you dare!" Kathryn told him teasingly.

"You have a great plan. It would be ashamed to pass up on it. Just hold on a little bit longer," Chakotay said encouragingly. "After this evening, you'll have the luxury to sleep as long as you want. No one will wake you up anymore."

"That remains to be seen..." Tom said, rolling his eyes in mock disbelief.

"So, this is it? Tonight is the night?" Kathryn asked hopeful.

"It is," Chakotay answered. "With the kind of plans that Tom is starting to come up with, both the Doctor and I agree that he his more than fine."

"This is wonderful!" she said cheerfully, squeezing Tom's hand. That meant that Tom's depression had been alleviated. Kathryn could not be more relieved. Of course, they wouldn't be sure if the treatment would be a full success until Tom had the opportunity to have a good night of sleep, but it was good news nonetheless.

"Have a good evening," Chakotay wished them before leaving them cuddled in each other's arms.

"So, you're starting to make plans, are you?" Kathryn teased him. "What kind of plans?"

"Well, it's a surprise," he said playfully.

"What kind of surprise?" she asked on a childish tone.

"A nice surprise," he assured her.

"Nice how?" She wanted to know.

He answered her with a long and fervid kiss.

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Not only did her Sailor had the most beautiful blue eyes – hum… make that most beautiful body altogether – he was a romantic. No wonder so many women had fallen for him! Now, however, he was hers. _All hers._

His arm around her shoulders, hers around his waist, Tom and Kathryn quietly walked along La Seine River. They had enjoyed inner in a charming little Parisian bistro that Tom had programmed just for the occasion. The food, the wine, the flowers, the music... Tom had thought of everything. By a bridge, they stopped and took in the beauty of the City of Lights, which the brightness was reflecting on the calm waters. Softly, Tom began to sing.

A

À la claire fontaine,

(At the clear spring)

M'en allant promener,

(As I went for a stroll)

J'ai trouve l'eau si belle,

(I found the water so beautiful)

Que je m'y suis baigné,

(That I bathed in it)

Il y a longtemps que je t'aime,

(I've been loving you for a long time)

Jamais je ne t'oublierai.

(Never will I forget you).

"I've loved you for a long time, too," she said tenderly. "Never will I forget you, either."

"Don't ever leave me, Kathryn Janeway."

To the sound of the water dripping under the small bridge, their bodies passionately melted into one another.

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**End of part 4.**

**REFERENCE:**

**Carlson, N. R. (1998). Sleep and Biological Rhythms.(6 ed), ****Physiology of Behavior**** (pp 252- 288). Boston: Ally & Bacon.**

_**À**__** La Claire Fontaine**_** is a beautiful song that is part of the French folk repertoire**

**May 2000.**


	5. His Loss

Series: Voyager

Pairing: J/P

Parts: 5/7

Rating: G

**Synopsis:** Tom is finally allowed to sleep and to dream again.

**Where They Left Off **

**5) His Loss**

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There were days when Kathryn Janeway wished she was not a starship captain. Those days, she only wanted to be the woman behind the authority figure. A woman in love, who did not care where she was as long as it was by her Sailor's side. That day was definitely one of those, and as usual, her duties as Voyager's captain were hindering her personal wishes.

Three hours earlier, Voyager had been intercepted by the Erty. They were claiming that the only Starfleet ship in the Delta Quadrant was in violation of their space. The Commodore of the Erty fleet had insisted that the captain come aboard his vessel and explained the presence of her ship in the sector.

It had been with great reluctance that Kathryn had left Tom's side to comply with the Commodore's demands. Doing otherwise might have led to an open conflict and she could not allow that.

Following their evening in the holodeck, the night before, Kathryn and Tom had returned to her quarters – hmm... _their_ quarters sounded better – where they had made love one last time before giving in to a good night's sleep.

As promised, Tom had not been disturbed. Twelve hours later, he had still not stirred once. His sleep had been composed mostly of REM sleep. Even if she knew it was normal, Kathryn could not help being worried about that fact.

The REM sleep deprivation that Tom had been put through during the last week had seemed to have had a positive affect on his mood. However the effects on his sleep disorder were less clear. More effective treatment could be started once Tom woke up.

"Why did we have to run into the Erty today of all days?" she asked her Fist Officer with annoyance. It was a rhetorical question to which she did not expect an answer. Chakotay smiled at her sympathetically. "I told Tom that I would be there when he'd wake up."

"I know that it's frustrating, Kathryn, but there wasn't any other acceptable solution," Chakotay reminded her. "Tom will understand. Besides, he has only been asleep for twelve hours. You'll probably be back by the time he awakes. If not, the Doctor and I will be there when he does." He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry."

She smiled at him, feeling indeed reassured.

They entered in the transport room where Tuvok was already patiently waiting for her arrival. She stepped on the platform beside her chief of security.

"Good luck," Chakotay wished them.

"Thank you, Commander. Energize," she finally instructed the transporter chief.

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Tom was aware that he was dreaming. He had been for a long time – seeing strange images in his mind eye that were accompanied by a sense of déjà vu.

The dream was very confusing, but it was not frightening. Tom was even enjoying floating in the air as he was roaming around the ship or… _ships_. The decor was so different from one hallway to the next that he could not decide if it was single ship or if there were two or more. The only thing familiar was the constant sound of dripping water. He did not mind the sound. On the contrary, it was soft and appeasing most of the times and he was feeling drawn to it as thought it was a homing beacon.

Sometimes, the sound of the water hitting a hard surface seemed far away, inconsistent, and almost inaudible. In those instants, his loneliness and sense of helplessness were awfully painful. It was reminding him of his life without Kathryn: empty and pointless. He knew that he would never survive losing her.

Other times, the sound was loud and clear. It had the rhythm of a marching drummer. It was full of energy and excitement. It was like this rush of adrenaline he was having when he was flying Voyager through a battle. It was like the overwhelming joy he was feeling when he was making love to his beautiful Kathryn.

_Kathryn..._

As he thought of her, his beloved suddenly stood in front of him like a divine apparition. He could see her as clearly as he could hear the water dripping beneath the bridge that was over La Seine River. They were in Paris again, the one he had made just for her. He could not be happier.

Kathryn was looking at him with an inviting smile. He wanted nothing more than to join her, kiss her passionately, and pledge his love for her as if it would be his last chance, for Kathryn needed to know just how happy and whole she was making his life.

He had almost reached her when the ground started to shake violently. The sound of the dripping water got lost in a cacophony of unpleasant sounds. He felt himself being thrown away and falling in an awkward position. He called out Kathryn's name with a panicked voice. True fear overwhelmed him when she failed to answer back. He tried to look around to make sure that she was all right, but he could not see her in the darkness.

Totally paralyzed, Tom helplessly laid where he was on the cabin's floor. After some time, he would have been unable to say how long, he became aware of his eyes blinking and of his aching back. The total silence and darkness worried him.

He slowly sat up. He called out Kathryn's name once more. As before, he received no answer. He felt his mouth go dry.

His entire world crumbled as he realized his loss.

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Chakotay swore under his breath as he watched the Commodore's ship leave with Kathryn and Tuvok on board.

Moments before, they had been contacted by the Erty's Fleet Commander who had informed them that Janeway would have to explain herself in front of her Travel Ministry and that Voyager was to hold her position.

When Chakotay had requested to talk with his Captain, they had been fired upon without warning. Obviously, their answer had been _no_.

"Report!" he ordered.

"There are energy surges in almost all our systems," Harry Kim reported from the OPS station. "Shields are down to 42 per cent. Engines are offline and so are the weapons' array and the comm. system. There are at least 13 causalities so far."

"All that from a single hit," the Commander pointed out with a bit of sarcasm. "I'll go see how they are handling things in Engineering. You have the Bridge Mr. Kim."

"Commander," Harry stopped him hesitantly. "What are you going to tell Tom?"

"Tom," he echoed with a sudden realization. "I totally forgot about him. I'll check up on him on my way down to Engineering. As for what I'm going to tell him? I can't say much more than what we know."

Harry nodded.

Chakotay went directly to Kathryn's quarters where he knew he would find Tom. He ran the chime two times and received no answer. The way the ship had rocked under the enemy fire would have woken up and disoriented anyone. Maybe the pilot was simply trying to get his bearings back, he thought.

If Tom was still asleep, which he doubted, there were justifiable reasons to break the promise he had made to him and wake him up. When Tom still did not answer after the third ring of the chime, Chakotay used his emergency access code and walked in. The room was dark so he called for illumination.

Chakotay found Tom seated on the edge of the queen size bed. The sighted in front of him stopped him dead in his track. He was sure he had never seen Tom looking so devastated before.

The younger man's shoulders were slumped forward and his head was leaning down to the right. Chakotay could see a flow of tears rolling off his cheeks and fall onto his shirt. He was clinging to a peace of clothing that Chakotay knew was Kathryn's.

The Commander was glad that she was not there to see Tom like this. It would have destroyed her. 'Spirits. Tom should be better, not worse,' he wanted to cry out. 'Why now?'

Chakotay slowly knelt at his friend's feet. "Tom," he whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder. Tom remained oblivious to his presence. "Tom, it's Chakotay," he said a bit louder. "Look at me."

Still nothing.

The Native American sighed. What was he going to do? He wanted to slap Tom or shake him out of his torpor, but he doubted that it would give better results. All he could do was to have the Doctor examine Tom. Hopefully, the physician would know how to treat Tom's sudden acute depression. Still, he tried one last time to reach the other man. He put his hands around Tom's wet face and forced him to look at him. The emptiness in the usually bright expressive blue eyes scared him.

"Tom, please tell me what's wrong," he almost begged.

"You know..." the young man faintly reply. "Kathryn's gone."

"How do you know that?" Chakotay asked, taken aback by surprise.

Tom shook his head and sighed. "It's my entire fault. Remember?"

"Tom, none of this is your fault," Chakotay tried to reassure his distraught friend. "Where did you take such an idea?"

"In the shuttle-" Tom began to relate just above a whisper. "The water was dripping and dripping... I was very worried, almost scared. But, I knew that Kathryn wasn't too far away. She would be able to rescue us if things were to get worse. When.-" his voice cracked. "When I lost her, I remember the sound. I tried to hold on to it." He swallowed hard. "The- the water stopped dripping and she's not coming back to me."

"Tom, Kathryn _loves_ you," Chakotay told him with all the conviction that he could muster. "She'll come back to you. We'll make sure of that."

"People don't come back, Chakotay," he stated as if he was explaining a basic fact of life to a child. "Maybe they do in your world, but they don't in mine."

"Tom, Kathryn is not dead," Chakotay said more sternly. "She loves you and knows that you love her. Don't you ever give up on her."

Again, Tom shook his head disbelievingly.

"There's still no sound," he sobbed.

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End of Part 5

Big THANKS to Monica for proofing this story. Merci!

May 2000.


	6. From Bad to Worse

Series: Voyager

Pairing: J/P

Parts: 6/7

Rating: G

_**Author's note: Here is how I like to study neuroscience. If you**__** don't get all of the neuro-babble in this text the first time around, fear not! You won't be the only one.**_

**Synopsis**: Things are going from bad to worse.

**Where They Left Off.**

**6) From Bad to Worse**

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It had been three days since Kathryn and Tuvok had been taken away on the Commodore's ship. There had been no communication from them nor had Commander Chakotay's repeated hails to the remaining Erty ships, circling around Voyager, had been answered.

Most of the repairs to Voyager's systems had been taken care of, and the crew was starting to become restless. The news of Tom's sudden, acute depression was only aggravating their sense of apprehension.

It was taking all of Chakotay's willpower not to give in to despair himself. He knew that it was too soon to assume that the unthinkable had happened to Kathryn and Tuvok. He doubted that Voyager would still be around if that had been the case. Although, Tom's conviction that he had lost Kathryn was making him question his beliefs.

Chakotay had passed most of his time with his grieving friend. He had been trying to figure out what Tom was going through, but the younger man's own confusion was making it difficult.

Tom had never said that Kathryn was dead per se, which was reassuring Chakotay to a certain extent. He was referring to her absence as 'having lost her'. However, Chakotay was not sure of when and how Tom had lost Kathryn.

There was clear reference to the Moneran Incident. Could Tom feel like he had lost Kathryn at that point? It sounded so hard to believe. The couple had worked out and accepted their differences, becoming even closer in the process. Then again, Tom had not been the same since he had walked out of the brig.

As resident 'unofficial' counselor, Chakotay had made a point of familiarizing himself with different types of pathology. His background in anthropology had given him good insights in the social sciences, but that did not make him a trained clinical psychologist.

In his readings, he had came across the 'two hits' hypothesis of mental diseases stating that someone needed a genetic predisposition 'and' an environmental stressor to develop depression. Considering Tom's past history, the younger man was defiantly fitting that profile, even if no genome for depression had been found in the human genetic code as of yet. Had that been the case, they would not be facing this particular situation at the moment.

So, assuming that Tom was predisposed to develop depression, what was 'the' stressor that had prompted it in the first place? Chakotay could think of a dozen at least. But something in particular had made the glass spill over, or in Tom's terms: 'the dripping water sound stop'.

Chakotay was grateful that the remaining senior staff had taken over the daily operations of Voyager; all agreed that the Commander's place was by Tom's side. Chakotay only wish that he could do more. Tom's fatigue and lethargy was confining the young man to bed. Even the doctor's best treatments were only giving him a few hours of wakefulness. During those hours, Tom's apathy was not leaving much room for a successful therapy.

He looked up from the padd that he had been reading when the Doctor joined him in the living area of Tom and Kathryn's quarters. Like him, the EMH had kept a constant vigil at Tom's side.

The physician crossed the room and sat in front of the Commander. He had a grim expression on his face that immediately alarmed Chakotay.

"The latest treatment you've tried isn't working, is it?" he said, anticipating what the Doctor was about to tell him.

"No. It doesn't," the EMH confirmed. "I reviewed all the data I have gathered ever since Mr. Paris fell ill, and came to an official diagnosis that explains his multitude of symptoms."

Chakotay sat straighter, bracing himself for the worst.

"I'm afraid that Mr. Paris is suffering from a neuronal degenerative illness. The neurons synthesizing noradrenaline in his locus caeruleus are progressively dying out. Those regions of the reticular formation of the brain have important roles in alertness, sleep, dreaming, and have an incidence on depression among other things."

"Can this be lethal?" asked Chakotay, forcing the last word out.

"I believe so. In a few months," answered the physician. "There are five adrenergic pathways originating from the locus caeruleus affecting different areas of the brain. They are involved in the body's vital functions and cognitive operations. The onset of the illness has been insidious, but now the course of the disease is fairly rapid. We've been dealing with more than simply one pathology. I'm afraid that we lost valuable time treating the symptoms and not the disease."

"What can you do?"

"I have already been giving this issue careful thought," replied the Doctor. "Considering that Mr. Paris has not been responding well to drug therapies and the alarming growing loss of neuronal tissues, I've been thinking of transplanting fetal noradrenaline cells directly into his locus caeruleus. This technique was first developed back in the 20th century to alleviate the symptoms of Parkinson disease by implementing fetal dopamine neurons into the substantia nigra of sufferers."

Not caring much about what part of the brain was doing what, Chakotay simply inquired: "And this worked?"

"In most cases, yes," the EMH confirmed. "We could also resolve the use of nanoprobes, but I would need more time to do a careful assessment."

Spirits, how he wished Kathryn were here to have her say in the choice of Tom's treatment and to give the younger man the support he needed. The decision was his, he supposed.

"How long do we have before it is too late to act?" he asked.

"No more than a week," the EMH replied.

"So, if we wait for 48 hours we wouldn't aggravate Tom's condition?" Chakotay asked more as a statement.

"I believe so."

"In 48 hours, regardless of if Captain Janeway is back on Voyager or not, we will go for your best option for treatment."

The doctor agreed and took his leave.

As he found himself alone in Kathryn and Tom's quarters again, Chakotay lowered his head in his hands. His heart was heavy with sadness as he dreaded the possibility of losing another friend.

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Kathryn Janeway materialized on the transporter room of her own ship. It was great to be home. The last four days had been stressful but quite rewarding. Her encounter with the Etry High Council had turned out to be quite different form what they had been expecting. Once Kathryn and Tuvok had explained their presence in Etry's space and their intentions, the High Council had turned out to be very understanding.

Satisfied that their people were not at risk, the High Council had granted safe passage to Voyager through their space. They also had offered supplies to the needing crew. Captain Janeway could not be more pleased.

Now, Kathryn had the chance to devote some time to her personal life. With Tom treated for his medical condition, they could both look forward to some good time together. There was nothing in the weeks to come that Commander Chakotay and Lt-Commander Tuvok would not be able to handle. Thus, Kathryn was planning to take some time off with the man of her life. She was entitled to a vacation after all, wasn't she?

Chakotay was waiting for Tuvok and herself in their transporter room. He quickly appraised them from head to toe. He was visibly happy and relieved to see them safe and sound. He gave Kathryn a sympathetic look as he saw her taken in Tom's absence.

"Welcome back," he told the both of them.

"It's good to be back," Kathryn said with a smile. "How are things going on Voyager?"

"Very well, Captain. The atmosphere was tense for awhile, but ever since we heard from you, morale is back up again. Neelix and B'Elanna can't wait to have their hands on those promised supplies."

Kathryn grinned. "I can imagine." She cleared her throat a bit embarrassed by her next question. "How's Tom?"

Chakotay's small smile vanished. Suddenly, he was hardly able to look at her. It was all that was necessary to answer her question. Kathryn exchanged a glance with Tuvok, silently dismissing the Security Officer. Respectfully, the Vulcan took his leave.

"I am so sorry, Kathryn," he apologized as if any of this was his fault. "The doctor finally discovered the true nature of Tom's condition. I'm afraid that the news is not good," Chakotay went on seriously.

"Not good?" she muttered mostly to herself. She did not want to believe this was happening as all her hopes and plans for a romantic getaway with her lover were forgotten.

"Kathryn, Tom is very sick. He could be dying."

0000000000

They made their way to the quarters she was sharing with Tom in silence. The Doctor stood up from the computer desk as he saw them come in.

"Doctor," she greeted, inviting him to report on Tom's condition.

She stood straight and strong as she carefully listened to what the doctor had found out.

"Both nanoprobes and adrenergic fetal cells would be effective treatments. However, the transplant of fetal cells has the advantage of using natural human genetic material."

"All right, Doctor," she said after a short pause. "Assuming we go with the transplant, when can you perform it?"

"In the next hour," he replied. "Seven would assist during the surgery."

She gave the matter some more thought before agreeing.

"Can I see him first," she asked.

"Of course, Captain," answered the Doctor. "However..."

"However?" Kathryn asked looking from the Doctor to Chakotay wondering how this situation could be any worse.

"There is something else we have to tell you," Chakotay went on. "After the attack, I went to Tom. I found him sitting on the side of the bed in an even worse condition than before. He knew that you were gone. I asked him how he knew that and he started to tell me about being in a shuttle with water dripping.

"The Monean incident," she whispered with dismay.

Chakotay simply nodded. "He said that he was worried, even a bit scared, but he knew that you were not far away and that he could count on you. Somehow, he came to associate the sound of the dripping water with your presence. When you were taken away, the dripping water sound stopped and he knew that you were gone forever. How's that possible? I don't know." He sighed. "Kathryn, I haven't been able to convince him that you were still alive and well and that you were coming back to him."

"Tom knows that I love him, Chakotay. He has to know that I would never abandon him and that I would always come back to him?"

"Kathryn, Tom says that people doesn't come back. They might be in my world and in yours, but not his."

Kathryn found herself nodding, understanding what Chakotay was talking about. Tom had lost many dear friends and family members over the years. Sadly, most of them had taken their distances away from him, even turning their back on him during hard times. This lack of support when Tom had tried to repair the mistakes he had made had hurt him very deeply. It was no wonder it was so difficult for someone as loyal as Tom to make friends and give his love to others, now.

"Surely, when he is going to see me, it will be enough to convince him," she wanted to believe.

"I hope so, Kathryn."

1234567890

**TBC **

**A/N: Many thanks**** to LEONE for helping proofing this story.**

September 2001


	7. Not Like The Others

Series: Voyager

Pairing: J/P

Parts: 7/7

Rating: G

**Synopsis:** It's time for some soul cleansing.

**Where They Left Off**

**7) Not Like The Others (a.k.a. Irish Rain)  
**

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Chakotay gently squeezed Kathryn's hand before she walked into her bedroom alone. Tom was asleep in the large bed. His position was not natural to him. He was on his back, not on his side. He was lying too straight and too still. She sat by his side. She gently caressed his pale face with her right hand. His skin was soft. Tom always looked younger when he slept. The fact that he had been shaved added to that effect. His head tilted into her hand as he stirred. The contact felt familiar to both of them. It brought tears to her eyes, but she blinked them away. She _had _to stay strong.

"Sailor," she said softly. "It's me. It's Kathryn."

"Kath?" he asked above a whisper. There was some anticipation in his tone.

"Yes. I'm here."

His eyes slowly focused on her face. His expression was one of uncertainty as he stared at her for a few seconds. She did not withdraw her hand from his face, hoping that her presence would be enough to convince him that she was alive.

"You came back," he told her.

"Of course I came back. I was only on an away mission. I met the Etry after the attack. We made peace," she explained simply.

"Why did you come back?"

"Why?" she echoed confused. "My place is on this ship and with you. I love you, Tom. I will never leave you."

"I know. But you're not real." He blinked and tears rolled down onto her hand. "The real people don't come back. Please Kathryn, if you love me, _go_."

She did not know what he was seeing when he was looking at her, but _she_ could see his distress. To him, she was some sort of a ghost, coming back to haunt him. It was enough to shatter her fragile self-control. Her own tears betrayed her. Tom broke their contact as he looked away with shame.

"It's all right," she assured him.

"No," he objected. "I don't want to make you cry anymore. I don't want to hurt you. You have to go. I will only hurt you. I can't do this."

"Tom, I am really here. I'm won't hurt you. You won't hurt me. I'm not going to leaving you. I love you, Sailor. I'll always be with you."

"Please stop. People don't come back. You're not real. You're just like the others."

Kathryn dried her tears with rising anger as she cursed _The Others_: Those who should have supported Tom and given him a second chance; those who had come into his life, only to turn their back away and abandoned him; those who haunted him, whom he could not let go. _The Others_ were the source of harrowing grief and pain, which she was now part of despite herself.

Kathryn wanted to scream her anger, her shame and sorrow as she felt a wave of self-hatred overwhelming her. She had vowed to never harm this man, yet she had hurt him profoundly. She had made an example out of him because of their personal relationship. She had segregated him for an entire month, just like his family and friends had rejecting him in the past. Tom had forgiven her, just like he had done _The Others_. He, however, had never forgiven himself for causing pain to those he loved.

Now the man she loved was dying of a neurological degenerative disease. It was slowly cutting his ties with reality. It was dragging him in a world of confusion, shame, and depression. It had done so for months. She had to put an end to the pain. She loved Tom. She could not let him go. She could not live without him. It was not too late to save him and she would fight for him.

"Tom," she said firmly, forcing him to look at her. "Do you love me?"

For a moment, his blue eyes were clear. "You know I do, Kath."

"Tom, I hurt you. I am so sorry about that. But, I am not like _The Others_. I _am_ here. I am asking you to give me a second chance. I am asking you to trust me."

He looked at her with uncertainty again. "You gave _me_ a second chance."

"Yes, and it's the best thing I ever did, Sailor."

"I always trusted you, Kath," he confessed. "I still trust you with my life."

"You won't regret it," she assured him. She bent down and gently kissed him on his lips. "I promise."

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The doors slid shut behind Chakotay. Tom's daily counselling session with the Commander was done for the day. He found himself alone in his quarters, pacing once again. He had moved back in his own cabin three days before in hope to find some peace of mind – in hope of finding himself.

Tom had woken up in Sickbay more than a week earlier. Kathryn, the Doc, and Chakotay had been by his side. Confusion had also been there to greet him. Tom had recognized his friends and his surroundings. However, he had been unable to recall what had brought him back under the EMH's tender care. In fact, Tom was still incapable of remembering what his life had been for the last few months. There were fragments of memory here and there, but they were not making much sense to him. The Doctor had warned him that he would probably never regain all of his memories. It had been up to Kathryn and his friends to fill inthe blanks.

_Kathryn..._ Her name echoed in his mind over and over again.

Tom finally sat on the edge of his couch. He was tired and dazed. His love for Kathryn was greater than life itself. He felt safe with her. He was supported and trusted. He felt _loved_ –the most important thing of all. Then, what was he doing by himself in his old quarters?

The distance he was putting between Kathryn and himself was heavy on his soul. It was breaking her heart. Yet, Tom did not know what else to do. Truth be told, he could not live with himself. All he could see when he was looking at Kathryn was the pain he was inflicting her. He could not stand before her with all his guilt, his shame, and his fears.

His elbows on his knees, he lowered his head in his hands. He wanted to cry, to let go of all his pain and frustrations. His tears – like his feelings – however, were locked inside. No shrink ever had to tell Tom Paris that he was afraid to face his emotions. Their intensity had scared him for as long as he could remember. Therefore, he knew that he had never learned how to express them properly. This flaw was about to cost him love of his life.

_Your barge is adrift, Sailor_, he remembered Kathryn tell him. They had been alone in the Mess Hall in the middle of the night. Tom closed his eyes, hoping to hold that flashback in soul just a little bit longer. _I love you, Tom. I don't want to lose you and I don't like to see you hurting._

"Kathryn, I don't want to lose you. I don't like to see you hurting either," he said in the empty quarters. Streams of tears slowly made their way down his cheeks. "I love you too, Kathryn."

_Then, what are y__ou going to do about it, Paris_? Chakotay's voiced challenged him.

Tom got up from the couch with a sudden sense of purpose. He went to his bedroom and retrieved a PADD from a drawer. He exited his cabin with a smile, leaving his fears behind.

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Kathryn Janeway had taken refuge into her ready room at the end of her shift. Anything other than going back to her quarters alone was good. The place felt too empty now that the man she loved had moved out. She could hardly blame him. Tom was unable to remember most of their life together. He could not even recall when he had officially moved in with her. It felt like that wonderful moment, like many others, had become meaningless. It was unfair. They had worked so hard to move on after the Morean incident – an event that Tom remembered all too well.

She took her half empty plate and disposed of it. She replicated another cup of coffee and sat back on her couch. Her gaze flew over the window as her thoughts went back to her relationship with Tom.

Kathryn was still feeling chills when she thought of how close she had come to losing him. She had believed so strongly that everything would be all right once Tom was healed, that she had never imagined they could ever suffer from a set back. For Tom, it was like coming out of the brig, again. A lot of time had passed, however. He could sense they had worked on their relationship, but only she was aware of how much progress they had made.

During that difficult time, she had come to know him well. She could tell he was now afraid of her expectations. He loved her. It was showing in the way he was looking at her, but he was holding back. He was afraid to let her down again and to hurt her. If only she could make him understand that she would always love him for who he was.

"I'm not like _The Others_. Give me a chance, Sailor," she pleaded as if he was in the room with her.

She sighed heavily. She was not going to give up on Tom. Not after all they had been through. Sill, she could not ease the ear that he might walk away from her.

0000000000

It was close to 2100 hours. Tom found Kathryn in her ready room. It was an old habit of hers to use her work in order to pass the time. It was a lousy way to entertain oneself in his opinion. He could not let that go on much longer, he thought with a smile. He rang the chime and waited for her to invite him in.

"Tom," she greeted him happily. "How are you?" she asked as she came down to him.

"Fine. Although, I miss you," he replied, pulling her into a loving embrace. "Are you busy?"

"Not really," she answered, meeting his gaze.

"Good, because we need to go," he said, leading her out.

"Oh? Where are we going?" she queried, playing along.

"To Dublin. To take a walk in the rain." Her eyes suddenly clouded. He knew what she was thinking. There had been too much talk about him hearing water dripping already. This was different. "You're the Irish expert here, you should know why?"

She smiled as the realization drew on her. "To cleanse our souls. Isn't that part another one of your song?"

"One that speaks your name, my Love," he told her before starting singing in the turbolift.

The gentle mist called Heaven's kiss,

The tears drop of angels' wings

And don't you know you cleanse your soul

With a walk in the Irish rain.

Oh Kathryn, take my hand,

I got three ponds of change,

And I'll sing you songs of love again,

When I'll be too drunk to sing,

We'll walk in the Irish rain.

We'll walk in the Irish rain.

Kathryn laughed, visibly happy. She pulled him into a kiss. Tom knew things were going to be all right. They would finally be able to pick up their life together where they had left of. –wherever that was.

0000000000

THE END.

A/N: BIG THANKS to Leone for proofing this text.

_A Walk In the Irish__ Rain_ (Steve Spurgin) Bum Rush Music, from

The Irish Descendants's album _Gypsies and Lovers_, 1994.

Thank you very much for following this series to its end. Sorry for all the time it took between its beginning and its end.

September 2001


End file.
